Disclaimer: Any recognizable characters do not belong to me, nor does Sons of Anarchy.
Gemma scrounged through mounds of boxes, heaving a large sigh and wiping the cool sweat off her forehead. She stood for a moment, stretching the kinks in her back, groaning at the pull of sore muscles.
"Anything else, Mom?" Gemma turned to see Jax standing in the doorway of the storage shed. He was just coming into his frame, long, lean, and lanky, finally hitting a growth spurt and now one of the tallest twelve year old boys in his class.
She gestured to the box she was just rifling through, "How 'bout you take that one, baby?"
He nodded and walked forward to pick it up. She leaned over to push his hair off his forehead. "Your hair's getting long," she murmured. "You'll need a haircut soon."
Jax scrunched up his face but didn't pull away. "I don't want a haircut," he complained. "I like it long."
Gemma gave a half-smile. "We'll talk about this later," was all she said.
He started out, catching up to Harry who was helping his dad organize the boxes in Piney's truck. She stood there a moment, watching Jax. Just soaking in his laugh that trailed over, and the way he bopped around energetically.
She felt her chest ache, and she let out a deep breath. She turned away quickly, swallowing down the tears that filled her throat. It did get better. The loss. But at moments like this, the fact that her other child was gone crept up on her and held her around the throat.
"I think I'm gonna take the boys for ice cream. Put a reward on the table to keep them in line. Okay with you?"
She turned slightly at Piney's voice, and didn't reply until she was sure her voice wouldn't quaver. "Yeah," she said, pleased to notice her voice was only the smallest bit rough. "Go ahead, Piney. Thanks for helping out here."
He said nothing, and gazed at her steadily. He rested a large hand on her shoulder. "These damn holiday's," he said, understanding lacing his voice, almost too much for her to take.
She let out a small laugh, and choked it off when it came out strangled. "These damn holiday's," she said. "You go on; I'll put the rest in the back of my car."
She sat on a plastic tub watching as Piney ushered the boys in the truck, their still high pitched voices carrying over to her. She watched them pull out of the lot, and watched until she couldn't see the truck anymore.
Gemma laid her head back against the cool metal, pulling her winter coat around herself tightly. Her eyes moved slowly around the garage, filled with keepsakes, boxes of clothing, decorations and things she couldn't bring herself to throw away.
Like Tommy's things.
Unwillingly, her eyes found the far corner, separated from the rest and not touched in eight months. Without even realizing it, she had stood, and walked over to the corner, feeling herself pulled despite herself.
She ran a hand down the wooden headboard of Tommy's blue bed and let out a shaky breath. "What am I doing?" she asked softly, pulling her hand away. She clenched her eyes shut and shook herself, trying to rein in her turbulent emotions. "Shouldn't have come in here," she muttered.
She had been avoiding the garage for months, knowing what was in there. But she had promised Jax the decorations for Christmas, and Clay was busy at the shop, John was off doing only god knew what, and Piney couldn't carry it all himself. So Gemma had to come with and sort through the boxes.
She knew this was a bad idea.
Her hand fell away from the headboard, and found its way towards a cardboard box. She told herself to leave it alone, to turn around and get the rest of the decorations and get the hell out of there, but she couldn't resist and opened the box.
And knew the moment she did it had been a huge mistake.
Her breath came out in a sob as her eyes filled and she lifted the worn, stuffed rabbit on top. "Oh, Babs," she whispered, clenching the rabbit to her chest.
She turned away, already overwhelmed, not even bothering to replace the lid, doubling over as she shook with grief, shaking and holding her baby's rabbit as close to her as possible. She caught her breath after several long moments, and held Babs close, grabbing the other boxes without sorting through them as she fought to get out of the garage.
She shoved the Christmas decorations in the front seat, blinking back tears, climbing in to her car and placing Babs on her lap as she had done with Tommy so many times.
"Oh, God," she said, swallowing, rocking back and forth as she rushed out of the lot with only one place on her mind.
She got there in record time, and knew she was going way too fast, vaguely thinking that she may get in an accident on the slick roads, but found herself not bothering to care. All she knew was that she had to get to her baby.
The frantic desperation in her eased somewhat as she pulled into the quiet cemetery, winding her way around until she reached the children's section of the lot. She parked and sat in the car for a long time, zoning out on nothing.
Finally, she gripped Babs and made her way out of the car and into the crisp winter air. She walked over to the tombstone she knew by heart, side by side with all the others that had flowers and toys.
She sunk down, sitting in the wet grass, and barely even noticing the wet seeping through her jeans. Her attention was fixed firmly on the stone in front of her.
Thomas Jonathon Teller
January 8, 1984 – April 4, 1990
Our Prince.
She ran her fingertip over the engravings. "Hi, baby," she said softly, laying her hand fully on the rock.
She said nothing for minutes, simply sitting there. "It's almost Christmas," she said at last, voice shaking, whether it was from cold or loss, she didn't know. "But you probably know that."
She let out a shaky breath. "I'm taking care of Chaney. Your birdy misses you." She swallowed. "He misses you a lot."
She trailed off, and played with the rabbit in her lap. "I found Babs. He was in your boxes. I think he misses you too," she whispered, fingering one of the floppy ears. "He probably gets scared during thunder storms without you there to protect him. I'll take care of him, honey," she promised. "I'll take care of him."
She could feel her control begin to slip away, and she shook her head quickly. "I love you. I love you. I love you, Tommy." She didn't know what else to say.
She pressed her face into Babs' fur, trying to pick up any trace of Tommy's scent, but found none but dust. She laid her cheek on Babs' head for a long moment; longing and wishing with everything she was that it was her baby in her arms instead.
She ran her hand over the tombstone. "Merry Christmas, honey." She leaned forward and pressed her lips tightly to the cold rock.
She made her way slowly to the car. Her feet felt heavy.
She drove home as if she was on auto-pilot. She barely even noticed, and made her way out of her car, slumping up the walkway and curling her cold fingers around the equally cold doorknob.
The boys and Piney were in the dining room. She wasn't surprised to see them. She was, however, surprised to see Tig and Clay talking in the kitchen when she stepped through the back door.
She blinked, not actually surprised, but still given pause. Both men were hurrying towards her, pulling her inside.
"Fucking Christ, Gem, you're freezing," Tig said, frowning and pulling her over to the kitchen sink. Gemma vaguely noticed Piney leading the boys into the front room.
She yelped as her hands were placed under the tap, and began to burn at the scalding water on them. Tig held her wrists firmly, keeping them there even as she struggled. "Gem, calm down. It's not that hot. It's barely even warm. Your hands are turning blue, and this is quicker. Gem, calm down."
She stopped struggling as the feeling she didn't even know she had lost returned to her fingers. She sighed as the warmth spread, and she just realized how cold she was. Her teeth began to chatter. She leaned in to Tig, but suddenly realizing her hands weren't holding anything, she jerked her head around. "Wait, wait, where's—"
She cut off as she caught sight of Clay, who was standing off to the side. He was holding Babs and watching Gemma closely. She felt her throat close up, and shook her head, unable to talk about it. He watched her for a moment longer, and then nodded, placing Babs gently on the counter, and making his way into the hallway to the linens cupboard.
"He was freaking out," Tig muttered, still holding Gemma's hands under the water. "You've been gone for hours. You weren't picking up your phone. No one knew where you were. He was worried."
Gemma nodded, resting her head against Tig's shoulder tiredly. A moment later, her hands were pulled from the water and the tap was turned off. She felt a warm blanket curl around her shoulders and was led into the living room, where Harry and Jax were putting ornaments on the tree. Clay led Gemma to the couch, and made her sit down, the blanket curled around her tightly.
She laid her head on the arm of the couch, staring at the lights. Clay stepped into her view, holding Babs out wordlessly, and she took the rabbit, holding him in her lap. Clay sat next to her on the couch, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, letting her lean against him.
Jax looked up from the tree and caught sight of Babs. He stared for a long moment, then walked over and petted the rabbit. He pulled his hand away and kissed Gemma on the forehead. He turned back around to finish decorating without another word.
I can't imagine losing a child. Ever.
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Huge thanks to Dahlia Rose-Marie, CarelessWhisper89 and xLila Rose for the reviews.